B is for Belligerent
by sbyamibakura
Summary: House/Wilson, Cameron/Cuddy, set sometime season...3? - Let it be known that Gregory House was not the most pleasant patient to deal with. Part two of the Alphabet Chronicles.


B is for Belligerent

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: House is property of people who aren't me. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated T for language, etc.

Pairings: House/Wilson, Cuddy/Cameron.

Setting: Sometime during season...3, I guess?

Summary: Let it be known that Gregory House was not the most pleasant patient to deal with.

A/N: Part two of the Alphabet Chronicles.

A/N 2: Dedicated to Annie, for her birthday. Love you, hon and I hope you enjoy! :)

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Let it be known that Gregory House was not the most pleasant patient to deal with.

"For the last time, House, no," Wilson says, rather patiently considering who he was dealing with. "You have to stay in bed."

"And that won't get anything done, so no. I'm-" he tries to get up once more but is once again pushed down by Wilson.

"I'm perfectly prepared to sit on you, you know." Wilson says, mildly.

"Kinky. But I'm a bit too near death to try any funny business right now."

"Then that's exactly why you should stay in bed!"

Wilson lets out an annoyed breath, looking at his best friend laying in the hospital bed. House had collapsed a few hours prior and his symptoms, running from fever to aches, to a few other things had them all hurrying to figure out a diagnosis as it didn't seem to be any of the standard stuff. Which, given the nature of their hospital and how things tended to go, was not very unusual at all.

It wasn't helping that House felt it pertinent to diagnose _himself_ and to do it from outside of his hospital bed. Although he hadn't collapsed again since earlier, he was still weak and with having a bum leg on top of that, it meant he couldn't-shouldn't-get around anywhere. Not until they could figure something out fore sure, anyway. He didn't seem to be in any immediate danger or anything like that and this was most likely something simple, but he still wanted to make sure he'd be safe.

"Just stay in bed and let the-perfectly able-doctors figure out what's wrong." At House's annoyed look and what looked like another attempt to get out of bed again, he speaks again quickly. "I'll do anything."

House pauses. He looks up at Wilson with those surprisingly striking eyes.

"Go on."

Wilson would take it. The fact that House would be willing to listen at all said a lot. Probably said a bit about their friendship and the bonds it held, but it most likely was the fact that House was gauging him, seeing what he could get out of it. Wilson knew House well, better than anyone else in the world, so he knew what he was thinking, could see those well oiled cogs turning and turning in his head.

"I'll do whatever you want, if you just _stay in bed_. Let us figure out what's wrong and-"

"I don't like other doctors."

Wilson nearly rolls his eyes. If there wasn't a truer statement in the world.

"I know that, House. But if you would just-"

"But I like you."

He stops, eyeing House. Sometimes it was hard to tell if House was trying some new ploy, or was testing a person. Mind you, House _was_ on an IV drip and some other medicine to try and help with the pain and the fever, but even then that shouldn't make him that out of it (the man was used to working while on Vicodin, after all.)

"Then let me help you." He says, finally.

"Hmm..." House says, pondering. He leans back against his pillow, thinking. "Might as well bring in Cuddy and Cameron then."

"I'll have to go find them, but sure."

"They're right outside, where they've been listening in, I'm pretty sure, since you got in here to try and talk me into listening. But that's no fun. Better to have something to tie you all into knots and to keep me entertained, since I have to stay stuck in this damn thing." He says sardonically, patting the bed with his taped up and IV'd arm.

The door opens a moment later and Cuddy and Cameron walk in.

"Okay then, House," Cuddy says, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

"Right to the point! Gotta love that in a woman. Well," House says, seemingly pondering again. "Might as well make a game of it."

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And House meant it. 'A competition' he had said.

'And what do we get out of it?' Cuddy asks, not looking very impressed at House's idea of fun.

'Besides my eternal gratitude?' House asks sarcastically. 'I'll owe whoever wins a favor.'

'And you'll do whatever they want?' Cameron pipes up. Considering her relationship with House, and how she felt about him, Wilson could only imagine what she'd want from him.

'Sure.' House says easily, as if not expecting anyone-other than him-to actually come up with an answer. 'But I want to be in on this too. I'll even give you all a headstart, but after that you bring me books to let me finish this on my own.'

'A race, then.' Cuddy states.

'A competition.' House corrects her.

Which is how Wilson, Cuddy, and Cameron were now all working hard to try and get this done. To get something from Gregory House was such a rare thing that none of them wanted to miss out on the opportunity.

It was only them three-four if you counted House-in this 'game' as the others were dealing with the other patients that had come in. For the most part they seemed a bit relieved that they didn't have to deal with House and his crabby self. House normally was hard enough to deal with; House as a _patient_ was another animal entirely.

"You realize this is cruel and unusual punishment, don't you?"

He turns and looks over.

"I mean, you're sitting _right there_ with books just out of reach?"

"Am I?" Wilson says, innocently. "I had no idea!"

House grumbles something under his breath and looks like he does his best to ignore Wilson now, continuing to read his copy of A Study in Scarlet.

Sitting near House gave him a surprising sense of ease, considering the man's acerbic nature. They had known each other for so long now, though, that he didn't as often take offense to the man's comments or nature. It was how he had always been, though sometimes it could be a bit more exaggerated due to his reliance on the Vicodin; something which Wilson had tried to help him get off of for awhile now.

He ponders what he'd ask for from House as he continues to look over medical books and finds himself surprised when the first thing he pictures is them out together. Certainly they both hadn't had a real break in awhile, but you'd think he'd have thought of something else. He looks over at House again, now absorbed in one of the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

He looked tired, though that wasn't unusual as he was often suffered from insomnia, irritated and...sad? He had to be reading _that_ one wrong. Even if he was, he didn't like showing things outwardly-too easy for people to take advantage of it, he would always say.

He startles as he sees House looking at him. Silent, instead of saying some sort of quick remark for once, looking at him with a surprising amount of intensity and he finds his breath catching in his throat. Then the moment is gone and House looks away, leaving Wilson to wonder just what had happened.

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He leaves House, mind still thinking about what had just happened and goes to try and find Cuddy and Cameron. Surely both of them had come up with a few things by now, considering they had ample time and didn't have to deal with House (and his piercing gaze.)

He finds Chase, just leaving a patient and he points Wilson to one of the rooms, where Cameron and Cuddy had both been working together, apparently. Well House had said nothing about not being able to work together, after all, so he could see the merit in it, wishing he had thought of it himself.

He opens the door and starts to head in, clutching one of the medical books in his hand. From the symptoms House was showing, he thought he had an idea of just what the issue was with House, but he still wanted to see what the other Doctors had come up with.

"So, I think I have a good idea of just what's going on." He says as he starts to walk into the room. "I would like to get your opinions...though." He stops.

Well.

It looked as though House wouldn't have to worry about Cameron possibly coming onto him or Cuddy and her will she or won't she when it came to being with House. Nor, from the looks of it, did Cuddy or Cameron have to worry about not having someone.

They pull away from their kiss, eyes wide as they look at Wilson.

"Whatever you want to do is cool with me," He tells them. "Just make sure to tell House sooner rather than later so he doesn't lose it if he hears it through the grapevine instead of you two."

Cuddy looked a bit uncomfortable, but doesn't move away from Cameron when she puts her arm around her.

"We will." Cameron assures him.

"So," Cuddy says, obviously trying to keep things about the situation at hand rather than her love life. "You said you had an idea what was wrong with House?"

He nods. He leans in closer and tells them what he suspects. They look at him with serious eyes when he finishes.

"Go." Cuddy says.

He nods and leaves quickly, wanting to get to House quickly. So he can tell him-

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"You're a dick."

House gapes at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're a dick."

"Not that that is news to me; just surprised you're saying it to a dying man."

Wilson rolls his eyes. "If you're dying, then I'm a ballerina."

"Well, you always _did_ have the leg for it."

"So you've been faking all this time?" he asks. House looks unrepentant. "Why?"

"I knew you'd realize it first. Which means I win."

"No. The terms were that if none of us could figure it out within a certain amount of time then you would be able to start and-" He trails off.

"I've known all along what's wrong with me, or the lackthereof." House says, smirking. "And by my estimation," He glances at the clock on the wall. "Your time was up about fifteen minutes ago. I win."

He looked altogether too pleased with himself.

Wilson sighs. "All of this effort, this work. For what? Did you want a break that badly?"

"Hmm? No, of course not. I'd get bored before you know it. Hell, I was bored just waiting here in this bed for a couple of hours. That wasn't the point of this at all."

"Then what was it?"

"I wanted to win over you."

"If you wanted to win that badly, you didn't have to go through all of this trouble."

"Oh, but I did." House says mildly. "Now you owe me a favor. So do the others, but that's inconsequencial right now. I wanted _you_ to owe _me_."

"Again I ask. Why?"

House gestures for him to come closer and he does. He sits on the edge of the other man's bed and is once again presented with that look from House, the one he couldn't decipher.

"House, what-"

The man's bandaged hand grabs the back of Wilson's head and he kisses him.

Wilson pulls back, shock in his gaze. "Wha-"

House grins. "Now, I'm going to be needing about ninety nine more of those before the day is over. Since I, you know, won and all."

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Thank you for reading this!

I hope you enjoyed!

-PhoenixJustice


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